


Another Realm of Pain

by Briazrasparks



Category: Mannix
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Original Character-centric, Original Universe, Time Travel, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-10-06 06:28:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20502410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briazrasparks/pseuds/Briazrasparks
Summary: Early season 2. Joe is called on a standard Missing Persons case, and while trying to locate a friend of the family, happens across a mysterious stranger in need of help. Unable to resist offering help and a meal, this stranger results in him never looking at the world in the same way. Never again. Can they form an alliance in time to save who he's looking for, when Mannix is a lone wolf? Or will he lose his patience and his mind, and possibly his case?





	1. Prologue

Heart beating fast, this Azakrian princess woke with a start. Pulse rapid, hands clammy with sweat, some screaming escaped her lips, and though sudden and recent as it all happened, her nightmares fled her mind fast. All she knew was that they have been horrifying enough to wake her and to keep her awake more often in a night than she cared to count. It was a frequent occurance and she hated it. Fortunately, though, her room had been sound-proofed as best as Azakra could maintain, being a planet of limited Earth technology. 

Still shaky from the nightmares' aftermath, Dragea pulled her blankets tightly to her face, determined not to cry into them, but tempted to, regardless. One perk of her status, she had some luxury, for instance in the sound-proofing and in the quality of the every-day items she used. This was quite honestly the fluffiest blanket she'd ever known to possibly exist in theory. One day, she told herself, she had to know what it was made out of. 

Finally, after sitting there a bit, she tossed them away from her, allowing herself the freedom to get up. Feet at the floor, she stretched herself a bit and stood. A quick glance to the window, she was met with the sight of daybreak and mostly clouds from the angle she was looking. Their castle was thousands of feet above ground, held up by an ancient draconic magic, so that was no surprise. What was surprising, was that her unpleasant awakening gave her a bit longer than normal to rest up. That was mildly refreshing to know.

As soon as she exited her room, Si was up and at her door, practically pouncing her to the ground like Tigger. Unironically, it made sense since they had similar personalities, it was her favorite Winnie the Pooh character, and they both were tigers. In Si's case, she was half tiger and half dragon, a metamorphosized, hybridized breed of dragon. 

Dragea chuckled, already feeling quite a bit better, if only to see her best and closest friend. She was sure the woman was incredibly concerned about her, but was attempting not to scold her for not trying to go back to sleep. She was quite the mother hen, at times. There was some worry in the tiger dragon-turned human's eyes as she asked, "Is everything okay?"

Dragea smiled brightly, appreciating her friend more than she could ever know. "Relax, Si. It's alright. No less okay than any other day." 

She could see the relief, clear as day, on her friend's expression. It made Dragea heave a heavy sigh, knowing how much stress she put the young healer through. Worse yet, there was little that could be done. Si refused to leave her to her face as princess of that world, alone. It was something Dragea was grateful for, and yet she still hated having to drag her through crazy and dangerous ordeals. Irregardless, the energetic tigress bounced back fast, an arm was soon thrust around the royal neck. 

"I'm sure you're on your way to the usual spot. I'll come with you, but maybe we should grab Welfie for a little extra muscle." Si grinned, enthusiastically and proud of her for her mischief. Dragea rolled her eyes in response.

"While you know I'd never object to Cawelfe's company, I highly doubt we'll even be able to get his attention. He's in the library, right now." She announced. It never ceased to feel strange, blurting things out with ease, despite that she shouldn't have been able to know them. Yet the fact remained, Cawelfe was impossible, where it came to reading books. It was easier to watch paint dry with your eyes glued, then to intercept his focus away from a book in his clutches.

Aware of this fact, as well, Si's head instantly drooped. She had been hoping to force the two to spend a little more time together, and maybe chip away at the lone wolf's shell of reluctance. That guy really needed to stop pulling away from his feelings. Si sighed, shrugging. "Oh, well. It was worth a try, I guess."

Dragea chuckled. Rolling her eyes once more, she led the way out of the castle. However, seeing as leaving meant approaching a ledge that would otherwise be a lethal drop, the both of them had to shift their form. Their shapes melded to become the ferocious beasts that would have scared any human being. After all, dragons weren't supposed to exist.

The drop was fast. Wind forces trying and failing to push their bodies back up. Gravity was stronger, and while Dragea's heart raced at the adrenaline of the ground rushing up at her, instincts quickly took over to save her. Great and colorful wings parachuted out, flapping hard for resistance, easing her slowly towards the ground until feet touched ground. The impact of landing could be felt in their limbs, but at least it wasn't bone-shattering pain. 

The winged, draconic tigress that touched ground beside her shook itself out. Soon, the forms of the girls returned. An illusion of sorts, in a sense, but real enough to fool any living being. Although, in her friend's case, this form was the natural one, and the dragon was the realistic illusion. 

"That was nice. We should fly places together more often! For relaxation! You know you need to relax more often." Si told her, pointedly, grinning. Dragea gave a light laugh. Granted, it wasn't really her fault, which Si knew, but still. She wasn't wrong. Dragea could stand to take some more time just to loosen up. 

"Maybe soon. I'd like that." Dragea admitted, with a nod, as she stepped up to the clear lake. The 'usual spot' that Si had mentioned was an oasis, which had a floating island in the middle, and a tombstone. She remembered the day she found out it marked the resting place of her parents, and that was long after she started coming here almost ritualistically. It just felt safe, and like she take as long as she needed to just think, breathe, and just... be. Exist. 

Sitting at the edge where land met water, Dragea sat, pulling everything off her feet to let them soak. It was nice. So very nice. Si smiled as she sat near, but stayed clear of the water. The two of them stayed silent, but the silence spoke volumes. Si wanted to leave her to her thoughts, and came more to make sure nothing happened to her on the way there or back. You never could know when Cafra would strike. Dragea appreciated that vigilance. 

As if fate wanted to confirm their worries, it seemed as though he would continue to lurk around the corner. A dragon guardsman, though not the one Dragea would have preferred to see most, followed shortly after towards their destination. "Princess, please come back, at once! Things have been stolen from your chambers! We think your brother is responsible." 

Dragea frowned, a sigh escaping her lips. Of course, he wouldn't leave her alone. He loved to torment her so. She knew it was for the best, especially since he knew this place, and what it meant to her, all too well. Still, it was hard to leave, right then. The reluctance compelled her to stay, and Si seemed to realize. Shaking her head, blond strands of hair swaying gently with the motion. 

"I'll go on ahead, check things out, and you can catch up with us." Si offered, despite hating the idea more than words could express. She was sure something bad was bound to occur. She held in a flurry of curse words at the fact they hadn't dragged Cawelfe with them, after all. Maybe, if she got back fast enough, she could send the wolf back out after, but the situation wasn't looking good. In clipped tones, she emphasized a strong warning. "Don't. Wait. Too. Long."

Dragea gave a nod of understanding, and soon enough, the two other dragons sped off into the distance. However, a chill of nerves ran down her spine as the thought occurred that they would be too far by now, to hear her. Now, would be about the time that Cafra would show himself.

As if fate wanted to confirm their worries, it seemed as though he would continue to lurk around the corner. A dragon guardsman, though not the one Dragea would have preferred to see most, followed shortly after towards their destination. "Princess, please come back, at once! Things have been stolen from your chambers! We think your brother is responsible." 

Dragea frowned, a sigh escaping her lips. Of course, he wouldn't leave her alone. He loved to torment her so. She knew it was for the best, especially since he knew this place, and what it meant to her, all too well. Still, it was hard to leave, right then. The reluctance compelled her to stay, and Si seemed to realize. Shaking her head, blond strands of hair swaying gently with the motion. 

"I'll go on ahead, check things out, and you can catch up with us." Si offered, despite hating the idea more than words could express. She was sure something bad was bound to occur. She held in a flurry of curse words at the fact they hadn't dragged Cawelfe with them, after all. Maybe, if she got back fast enough, she could send the wolf back out after, but the situation wasn't looking good. In clipped tones, she emphasized a strong warning. "Don't. Wait. Too. Long."

Dragea gave a nod of understanding, and soon enough, the two other dragons sped off into the distance. However, a chill of nerves ran down her spine as the thought occurred that they would be too far by now, to hear her. Now, would be about the time that Cafra would show himself.

"I thought they'd never leave..." A creepy voice spoke from the shadows. Dragea's breath caught. Jumping immediately to her feet, and in a far less fluid motion than she cared for it to be, she spun to face him and unsheathed her sword. "Put that away. I'm not here to fight you." 

The tone of which he spoke made her blink. It was... sincere. She could feel it. Her heart wanted to believe it, which made her prone to oblige. Her sword was sheathed again, though slow and cautious to do so, from personal experience. Dragea's eyebrows furrowed in pure confusion. "Why, then? What have you done with my stuff? What did you take them for??" 

She winced, taking a careful step back as he shot her a harsh glare. If she wasn't careful, she'd probably have to get Si to heal yet another burn wound. Exhaling somewhat deeply, she waited silently, hoping he'd be forthcoming with answers, like if he was willing to give them back. 

"They're right here with me, actually. I've come to return them to you." He told her, tossing her the duffel bag she often brought with her on long trips. She blinked, catching it, and checking its contents. How bizarre. This was literally she would have packed to take with her on a trip, but for what reason? As soon as the realization struck, her eyes widened in horror, and Cafra had given no chance to react. 

"Sorry to have to do this, but you need to be out of the picture for a while..." He uttered, barely more than a whisper in her ear. He jabbed straight in her gut with claws extended out from his nails, and Dragea let out a sharp shout of pain. A combination result of the pain from the wound and pressure Cafra applied to her neck, knocked her out cold and thus left her vulnerable to involuntary relocation. His face contorted a bit in disgust, but with her out cold, he felt courageous enough to speak a single sentence. "I may never forgive you for choosing your side, but I'll die before I see Gerdrin kill you."

Gathering her and her belongings, he was sure someone would be here shortly to play knight to the damsel-in-distress, probably that mutt. Fortunately, all that was left was to open a portal and carry his sister away to the destination. A hand reached to a trinket around his neck. It was a power temporarily bestowed to him by someone that trusted him, though probably unwisely placed. "This had better work." 

Mere seconds later, all traces of them but their scents were gone, engulfed by the shadows. They reemerged instead in a human city, on Earth. Although he wasn't normally one for traversing the boundaries of time, he was aware it was long before any time period that Dragea had seen, nor was it any city she had been to. Cafra had chosen such, so that no one would be able to find her. 

He wasn't too worried for her safety. She was good at keeping herself safe, despite her reckless tendencies, but he would have to watch her slumbering state for any human passers-by that might try to harm her, though. He loathed having to, but he'd decided to knock her out, rather than order her about. He'd have to deal with the consequence of his decisions, just like he'd have to eventually deal with Gerdrin's wrath.


	2. Chapter 1

Dragea woke with a start, resisting all urge to shout at the top of her lungs. Once more, terror preceeded to wake her, half from her nightmares, but more so because of what had occurred before. She couldn't be sure of how long she had been out cold, left laying on pavement. Pavement? 

Feeling the ground, the texture was clear as day, and that meant she was left on Earth. Why had Cafra brought her there? She couldn't even begin to fathom it, but that was often the case with him. It got her out of the way, after all, which what he'd mentioned before knocking her out. 

A chill ran through her, suddenly worried for her friends and her king. Cafra could be ruthless when he wanted to be, and the guy he served was always ruthless. Without her around to try to prevent catastrophe, who even knew what could happen?

Wherever she was, it was clearly still daytime. Although the sky was dimming, so it either was getting ready to rain, or night was on the verge of falling. A thought nagged at her though. Whenever? Was she lost in not only a foreign land, but a foreign time? 

She groaned at coming to this conclusion, not helped by her throbbing wounds, even though they had been dressed and treated a bit. As she begun to try to get up, she winced as a sharp pain ran through her gut, originating from that very source. Lifting her shirt slightly, she blinked in confusion. Cafra could only have been the one to tend to her, but why would he even go through the trouble? That made no sense at all.

A headache formed at the stress of having to deal with all of this, but sighed as she knew she didn't have much choice but to get up and try to get an idea of her setting. Slowly, and carefully, she maneuvered, attempting to aggravate her injury as little as manageable as she got up from the ground. 

Of all the suffering she could recall to memory of Cafra putting her through, this was easily the worst, so far. Grimacing between annoyance, frustration and absolute pain, Dragea hobbled along out of the dark alley, with the bag that had been nestled up against her unconscious form. It was still beyond comprehension how uncharacteristically considerate and tenderhearted he was being through all of this, but all she could guess was there was some kind of ulterior motive for it all, somehow. After all, he never did anything without a reason. Ever.

She had no choice but to wander aimlessly for now, guided by her ever-cognizant abilities to find the best path for her to take. In this instance, she found herself being led down a pretty, suburban road more than a couple hours from the alley she'd awoken in. Most of the time, she never knew what to look for, but she often just knew when her path had intertwined with destiny and eventually just came to a halt, but so far, nothing struck out at her. Yet. Finally, though, after walking a little ways further, her eyes glimmered with a spark of certainty. There was a man at the door of a house, talking to some woman. 

The man was a good deal taller than her, even more than Cawelfe. His hair was dark and he was wearing a beige suit. Any more than that, Dragea couldn't tell visually, but her keen senses could pick up on his cologne and very human scent even from here. Plus, his hands seemed rather on the hairy side, but outside of that, she couldn't tell much with his back turned towards her. The woman, however, she seemed agitated or terse, almost as if she loathed talking to this man, even though he'd barely opened his mouth. He'd ask to talk to someone, as well mentioned he was investigating the whereabouts of some other person. 

He was a detective? Her ears perked up. Now, that had her attention! She did enjoy crime and mystery, even if she did often ruin things for herself when reading or watching them. Something about this woman made her frown. It wasn't difficult, probably for either of them, to be able to tell she was trying to hide something from this guy. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mannix. I'm afraid I can't help you! Goodbye!" She harsh grumbled, under her breath, shutting the door fast as she could manage. Yet, while he walked off, Dragea could see her checking back at him through a curtained window, briefly. Soon, though, the curtains closed once more. 

Taking this as a good opportunity to present herself to speak to this Mr. Mannix, she took another painful step forward. Unfortunately, due to the nature of his occupation, he noticed her, first, along with her expression of agony and hurried to steady her in concern. 

"Are you okay, Miss...?" He fished for information. Dragea could tell immediately, he was trying to deduce what he could without words, as he waited. Clearly, her appearance shocked and confounded him, but she supposed he knew already that she was a foreigner, if only from her confusion of her surroundings. "Do you need a doctor?"

Dragea's cheeks turned immediately pink, half from the fuss he was making towards her, and half because the man was quite attractive. It was flustering to her, in combination. "Oh, uh... I don't think so. I'm fine. I was wondering, if maybe you couldn't tell me where I am. I'm... not from around here." 

"Clearly. Do you mean the street or the city?"

"Both?"

"Are you lost?"

"Something like that. If... This is going to seem like a silly question, but... What year is it, if I'm not asking too many?" The man blinked, then frowned. Suddenly, it seemed as if a whole new clue or puzzle had fallen into his lap. Dragea's eyes widened, waving one hand. "Oh, it's nothing like amnesia. If anything, my head is a little foggy, but I know my own names. Call me Daria, or Ms. Dawson!" 

"Names?"

Dragea bit her lip. This guy was good. "You know. First, middle, last? Nicknames. Aliases. I remember a lot of things, actually."

"Uh huh... Well, you're in Los Angeles, on Hampton Street, in 1968." The guy gave a shake of his head. He was used to people, in his line of work, hiding things. However, that didn't make it any less frustrating to be kept in the dark, and this was two people in not even a minute.

Still, people were entitled to a few secrets and as long as he was still able to finish his job, he couldn't really care less. So, with that thought in mind, he gave her proposition. "Look, you seem like you could use some help and a good meal, and I haven't eaten since breakfast. If you're not from around here, wandering lost, I can only imagine you don't have any money. How about I treat you to lunch, and you can tell me your story. Maybe I can help you, somehow? I'm a private investigator."

The offer did manage to take her by surprise. She hadn't quite expected him to be this kind, though it stood to reason why she'd been led to him specifically. She hesitated, though, for a couple reasons. As a princess, she got offers like this and more on many occasions, but each one, she was reluctant to accept. Also, she hadn't any idea what she could even begin to say to him, particularly things he could believe. She'd have to think carefully on his words. She couldn't really say no, though. He was right. What money she did have, couldn't be used in this time. She sighed and nodded.

"I'd really appreciate all of that. I usually prefer to turn down such grand offers, but you're right and I could. I'm not really sure how much could even be done, though." 

" 'Do not fear failure but rather fear not trying'." Mannix quoted in proverb for assurance, a small smile on his face, as he helped her to his car. He was a little surprised that she had far less hesitation in entering the vehicle of a stranger, than to let them pay for food. It seemed to him that this girl had a lack of self-preservation. "Not very cautious of people, are you?"

"You seem trustworthy enough, and I overheard some of your conversation before. You're definitely a detective, and a darn good one, at that, from what I can tell. Besides, I've been in shadier situations and I'm just relieved to be able to get off my feet. I've been walking far too long." 

A few questions seemed to swirl around his head, as he searched to think which to ask first. A smirk formed on his lips at the given compliment, but focus on starting up the car and driving it off while Dragea buckled herself in. After a moment, now that he was no longer preoccupied on the car, he finally settled on a question. "Is one of those 'shady situations' how you ended up in this mess? Maybe even how that happened?"

"You noticed that, too?"

"Call it occupational hazard. I've had plenty of injuries, myself. So, care to tell me what did happen?"

Dragea sighed, although the very action itself of exhaling made her wince with regret from hurting. "I was stabbed and relocated, by a man named Cal Vincent."

"You're sure you don't need a hospital? That should get looked at, especially if it's recent."

"From the looks of it, Cal patched me up, near-immediately." She told him, resulting in his shooting her a strange look. "Yeah, I'm as lost there as you are, but he's the only one that could have. I probably should still have it checked, but I'm not sure a hospital is the best idea. I wouldn't know where to begin on the paperwork."

"What do you mean? I thought you didn't have amnesia." 

"It's... difficult to explain, and it'd be even tougher to explain to a hospital. I have a feeling it wouldn't go very well."

"Try. I can't help you, if you aren't straight and level with me."

Dragea bit her lip. She supposed a private car was a bit better than an open restaurant or diner. Still, it felt like he'd be reluctant to accept the full scope of her predicament. She doubted he could even begin to comprehend psychics, let alone dragons. "I'm just not sure how believable you'll find everything."

By this point, the poor detective probably felt a headache coming on, with all the roundabout answers she was giving him. He briefly rubbed his eyelids after they halted for a red light. "Maybe you should let me decide what's believable and what isn't."

She remained hesitant for a moment longer. "I'm going to need you to keep as open a mind as possible." 

"I'll see what I can do, if you'll just give me a few more straight answers."

"Look, I'm not just a foreigner to this area, I'm out of my own time. That's why I had to ask what year it is. It's... Incredible to say the least, so I know how hard that is to accept, but with all due respect, that's probably the most easy aspect of my story to believe."

It seemed to take every ounce of willpower not to slam on the breaks, but to, instead, pull into the nearest driveway. "You're kidding me, right? You got some wacky sense of humor."

"It's not a joke. Here." She said, rifling through her bag and pulling out a multitude of objects from it. "I'd hand you my sketchbook, too, since I date all my work, but that's too easy to disprove. This stuff works better. Take a look at the copyright information and everything in this book, and my ID card... Not to mention, the technology I'm carrying is crazy advanced for the late 1960's..." 

The headache was beginning to hit him full force, now, but he took the book gingerly as it was handed to him, blinking. As much as he wanted to try to think of some reason it was a scam, it was naturally well-worn from the wear-and-tear of it being read, plus it was a book he'd never even heard of. Then again, he didn't know every book in existence. He'd have to talk to Peggy about looking into it. It was called, "Inkheart," and according to the information, it came out in 2003. Skimming through the pages, it seemed to match the summary on the back, and like a not too bad read. 

To be fair, he didn't currently have reason to doubt her, outside of that he'd only just met her. He couldn't be sure she was all there, mentally. Taking on her case might not have been such a good idea, but he couldn't just leave her alone like this. That would have been almost inhuman. Then, there was the strange devices she pulled out and even the way she talked. The proof she thrusted on him was almost overwhelming, regardless of his high, factual standards. "What are those?" 

Dragea smiled lightly, glad he was willing to attempt to believe her. She picked up a small silver rectangular device, that probably looked like little more than a paperweight to him. "This thing is my phone, but it acts as a camera, and other stuff, too. There's even sudoku and some games on here."

"Sudoku?" 

"Puzzle game. Nine columns, nine rows, and nine sections. There are numbers in most of the squares, and you have to fill the blanks. Each number can only be used one per column, per row, and per section." Dragea explained, tapping at the device to pull up an example. The very thing made Mannix's eyebrows furrow at how it possibly existed, and if she was right, how was it a phone, on top of this? But from her explanation of the objective and having seen it, another thing came to mind.

"So it's a variation of Latin Squares."

"I.... Maybe?" 

Moving on, she picked up her handheld game system. It was given to her by a very kind dragon that made a living on Earth, and was able to get his claws on stuff like it and games. Dragea wasn't entirely sure how, but it seemed like through legitimate means. It was among the few gifts she accepted, solely because the dragon simply wanted to give it to her to make her happy and it was too strong a temptation to keep it. Surely, she wouldn't have, though, if the dragon had malicious intent or had obtained it illegally. 

"In a few years there are going to be computer devices created solely for entertainment, that attach to television sets, and one company that makes them goes by Nintendo. It innovated a few that could taken around portably, without having to connect to a TV, and the latest does both and the blue and red parts disconnect to become seperate 'controllers'. The name is pretty self-explanatory. It's called a Nintendo Switch." The draconian princess explained, taking the book and handing the Switch.

She tried to stifle a giggle as he hadn't a clue what to make of it until she leaned over to power it on, and he pressed the shown home button multiple times as it directed him. He appeared to gloss over the game list in confusion, lost beyond belief. He soon after returned it to her, and took the ID card next. His eyebrows knitted together. 

"According to this, you're 19 at the most, and 14 at the least..."

"It's been expired for quite a number of years. I haven't had a chance to get a new one."

"You've been living under a rock?"

Dragea bit her lip, scratching the back of her head. How would she explain any of the rest of this? It was quite a bit more alarming and she couldn't prove some of it where any panicking pedestrians and bystanders could see her. Maybe if she vagued it down. "Well...." She started, but hesitated, grimacing.

"I think if I can handle time-travel, little else can shock me by now."

"Er..."

"What is it? You come from Mars, too?"

"I wouldn't quite say 'Mars' exactly." She winced, one eye closed. 

"Now, you're joking."

"Kind of wish I were, at this point..."

"So, let me get this straight. You're a time-traveling martian? I thought they were supposed to be little, green men." He questioned, clearly not amused or happy in the slightest. 

"I can prove that, too, but that's a little more complicated to. I can't actually take you there without creating a mess of problems, namely that it tends to metamorphosize visitors..." She frowned. "Not to mention is gets... Weirder..."

"Oh. Lovely. How exactly do you plan to prove it, then?"  
"It'd be much easier to if we went in plain view... That might be better saved for later, if we can talk somewhere... Less open." 

"Yeah, okay, fine. I'll take you to my office, after we get lunch squared away. You can't heal properly, if you haven't got your strength up." He told her, almost wondering why he was still going along with all of this. Maybe it was curiosity for the confidence with which she spoke or the proof that she claimed to be able to give, but he could see himself being hooked more and more by the second. He shook his head, with a wry smirk. "Would you look at that. Maybe fleeing the planet was more viable than either of us thought."

"Huh?"

"Never mind that. I'm referring to something someone said, during case from a few months back, involving compromising diary pages."

"I see."

"What I'm wondering is how it could get any weirder than aliens and time travel." 

"Do you really want to know?"

"How about we save that for later, as well?"

"You've no idea how relieved I'd feel." 

With that conversation ended, and Dragea felt it had gone over reasonably well, considering, they exited the random driveway and drove to their destination. Now, Mannix might have brought her to the restaurant "The Blue Danube," owned by some good friends, but he didn't enjoy imposing. Last time, she adamantly refused to take payment, and their courtesy wasn't anything he liked to take advantage of. He certainly wouldn't bring guests along, unless he insisted they meet Kitty. 

So, instead, he opted for a cozy little café place not far from his office, which doubled as his own residence. She didn't need to know that, though, for now. Although, he grew suddenly concerned for her, if she had no place to go, but they'd figure that out, later, when he knew more. However, as they stopped, his passenger made no move to undo her buckle, staring out the window. 

"Is something wrong?" He questioned. 

"I don't mean to be a hassle, I swear I don't, but... Is this really a good place to come?" She wondered. She hated to ask to go someplace else, but she just knew, if they stayed, she'd be recognized. That could only mean other dragons were here. Maybe it was dragon-owned? Either that, or one of the employees was, and she was as dead-set about accepting charities as he was. No such luck, though.

"I know it doesn't look like a lot, but I've been here on the way to the office a couple times. The food is good, and the prices aren't bad. I'm sure you'll like it, if you give it a chance." He told her, getting out to go around and open the door like the gentleman he was. 

Dragea flushed, holding her breath, partly from the gesture and partly in nervous anticipation. Repeating in her head, she thought, 'Don't recognize me... Don't recognize me...' 

They made their way to a table that was empty, save for flowers, menus, and silverware. The floors were black-and-white checkered, the tables were white, and the booth seats were red. Firm, but not terribly uncomfortable, Dragea settled in, still more or less just trying to ignore her wound. 

Fortunately, she guessed he must have treated with some kind of herb, maybe "Porygozitine" or something like that. She was no healer, and neither was Cafra, but Cafra spent a good portion of his formative years traveling with one that he'd grown close to and she had her best friend. If she recalled, that particularly herbal powder was good at speeding up a wound's natural healing process and would prevent losing too much blood. It would, however, remain really painful, but that all was another reason she didn't think a hospital was necessary.


	3. Chapter 2

"May I take your order?" A waitress questioned, at first not even glancing up from her pad, but once she did, her eyes practically popped out of their eye sockets. Dragea grimaced, guessing this probably wouldn't help her believability any. 

"I'm not Kleandra. Sorry." She offered, a look of pure, sheepish chagrin overtaking her expression. One, she felt like she had disappointed the poor girl, but two, she might guess their relationship or more so that she was royalty. That gave her a worried feeling in the pit of her gut. Not to mention, three, he would soon ask who that was, amongst other questions that were reasonable to expect from him.

"O-oh... Right... She has... But you look..." She stammered, practically dropping her notepad in her flummoxed state. 

"Relax. Everything's alright. Take a deep breath. It helps." Dragea smiled, lightly. "I can promise you're mistaking me." 

"Sorry. C-can I get you two anything to drink?" She asked, taking that deep breath, but was still a little rattled by nerves. Dragea gave a soft sigh, and lightly shook her head to focus her thoughts. 

"Honestly, I'll just take the same as you. I'll drink almost anything, as long as it's not alcoholic." Dragea admitted, sure she wasn't making a bad choice. It'd likely be coffee. Practically on cue, though he spared a suspicious glance her way, he looked at the waitress. 

"A coffee would be fine." Mannix told the girl. She jotted the drink choices down. 

"Do you guys know what you'd like to order?" 

"Could we have a few minutes more to think it over?" Dragea questioned. In result, the girl flushed deeply. 

"O-of course! Take all the time you need!" She said, with a very slight bow. It was nearly undetectable to the eye, but Dragea caught it. She felt her own cheeks turn a little pink, more because her temporary companion crossed his arms. 

"So, who's Kleandra? Or were you faking this whole time-travel charade, after all?" Mannix pressed for more information. Not like he'd be surprised, but that was a lot of trouble to have gone through, probably unnecessarily. However, he was enraged at the thought of having his time wasted. 

Dragea bit her lip. This girl was bound to hear everything. She sighed. "She'd be my mother. I never really knew her that well. I was little when she..." 

She had trailed off, initially because it hurt to mention, despite having been so young at the time. Although, the sounds of crashing coffee cups would have halted her, anyway. Dragea grimaced, covering the ear that was closer to the noise. Well, this was going wonderfully. Still, she added, "If you take out the crazy hair color, I'm told I look almost exactly like her. Judging by this, I'm guessing that's accurate. Our family is pretty decently well-known."

"I see." 

"I can't blame you for not believing me. I know exactly how impossible all of this sounds. Trust me, I was there once, but I'd really appreciate, if you could at least hear me out to the end. From there, you're welcome to tell me to take a hike, and I'll do my best to settle my debt."

"Well, if your story is as crazy as your style is loud, I'm not sure how much of this ride I can handle before I want off this carousel. I'll do my best to try to contain myself from doing so, as long as possible." Mannix agreed, though seemed agitated. Dragea definitely didn't blame him. She sighed, then flushed in self-consciousness at his saying her outfit was loud. He noticed her mild withdraw and blush, and added, "I didn't say it was necessarily a bad style. It looks good on you."

Dragea's flush deepened, coughing a bit. Her reaction probably amused the guy, because his smirk returned. Attempting to ignore her own embarrassment, she raised her menu and buried her face a bit. It was more for show than anything, as well as obstruction, seeing as she more or less already knew what she wanted without even looking. By now, the waitress probably realized that, too. In fact, she hurried with glasses. 

"Sorry! I'm not myself, today. I'm usually calmer than this. Truly!" The girl claimed, face redder than a tomato, simply for having to admit how rattled she was. Dragea's sheepish expression returned, but otherwise remained silent. At this point, she didn't know what more there was to say. Maybe she'd come back another time, to try to talk to her alone. She'd have to see. In the meantime, she couldn't. "Were you all set, otherwise?"

"I am, I think. Unless you're not?" Dragea double checked, still feeling mildly unnerved, but getting over it. At least, for now.

"Ladies, first." He grinned, gesturing for her to order ahead of him. Fighting the blush from coming back, she instead kept her focus on the menu and waitress. 

"I'll just have a chicken salad sandwich, side of fries. Thank you." 

Mannix seemed happily surprised by the choice. Simple and not very expensive tastes, and he had a feeling it wasn't entirely restraint for his wallet's sake, though that might have been part of it. Her personality certainly seemed to contradict the idea of a con artist, but he wouldn't rule it out quite yet. However, it was his turn now, and personally, he didn't object to her choices. "Let's make it easy and just double everything. Okay?"

"Got it. I'll be back shortly, with your food." The waitress affirmed, then hurried off to turn in the order. 

The menus had been taken, so Dragea's mild embarrassment had no way of hiding, now. Instead, she fixated on the vase of flowers in the middle of the table, until the waitress returned briefly to fill their coffee cups. She perked slightly in thought, looking up at her. "Could I get a bit of milk for this, if that's okay?"

The girl barely spared a second for response, speeding off like she was happy to do whatever was requested of her. Dragea glanced around, only just now particularly realizing how enpty it was there. She guessed it was a slow afternoon. That explains why Mannix was so flippant about bringing up time travel in public. He would figure anyone would have overheard was no longer within earshot, that the dropping glasses was merely coincidence. 

"I guess maybe start from the top with your story." Mannix opened up the conversation, once more. He was wasting no opportunity to get to the bottom of the mystery of whether she was simply crazy or not. Dragea exhaled softly, thinking cautiously of her words.

"I was just visiting my favorite spot earlier this morning, with a friend. It's pretty much an oasis, but it's gorgeous there. Anyway, I guess Cal was stalking me there until my friend was gone. Then... Well... He took advantage of my being alone, stabbed me and knocked me unconscious. Then, I woke up around here. How he got me here, is beyond me." Dragea explained, with a shrug. She had managed to finish speaking around when the waitress returned again, with her request, pouring the white liquid generously. "Ah, that's more enough. Thank you!" 

Receeding meekly, she blushed lightly and disappeared to the kitchen again. Dragea's sensitive ears picked up on the fact she was stammering to possibly the cook about her presence. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Mannix noticed the action, but paid it little mind. He had too many questions, and maybe the hunger or something was getting to her.

"How would this... Cal Vincent? How would he have known where to find you? How would he have known you'd be alone?"

"This... Isn't the first time he's stalked me there. I wish I could say my favorite spot is a well-kept secret, but it's not." 

"I'm surprised your friend would even leave you alone, in that case."

"She was reluctant."

Mannix sighed. More and more, he felt confirmed in his suspicions that she lacked a sense of self-preservation. Dragea fought back an instinct to tell him he wasn't alone in deciding that she could be reckless. However, that would open a whole new "can of worms" she wasn't willing to spill on him quite yet. Soon, though, perhaps. "Continue?"

"I mean, I'm not sure what more there is to say. At least, for now, anyway." She admitted.

"Well, you did say this story gets crazier." Mannix reminded. Although, judging from her wording, he could only assume she was pacing the crazy out. He supposed he could appreciate that. "What do you know about this Cal Vincent that you can tell me? You obviously know him rather well. What reason would he have to do any of this?"

"That's the whole thing. None of this really makes much sense. Why wouldn't he have just killed me outright. He's my brother, I admit that, but we've had a strained relationship for quite a long time. He's never been shy of telling me he'd like to see me dead." She admitted, grimacing at the statement. Her heart always ached for reconciliation, but that seemed too far out of reach for eternity. She sighed, longingly, which also wasn't unnoticed by the detective. 

His thumb rubbed the mug's handle in deep thought as he sipped with further contemplation, before reaching over to put a hand at her shoulder in comfort. Then, he said, "Whatever's between you two, maybe he'll come around. If he really wanted to kill you, you'd be dead, instead of talking to me or at the least, you'd be worse off."

The glimmer of hope in her eyes was worth it to him, and he knew he was right. So did she. She had to hope that if he did come around like Mannix said, hopefully that was soon. She followed suit, sipping her own coffee, after mixing some sugar packets in. "Anyway, Cal is incredibly devious. He's a master of strategy and deceit. He's not a person you want as an enemy, but also, he never does anything without a reason. That includes this. All I can assume is he wants my friends to believe I'm dead." 

Mannix mulled these thoughts in his head, taking more sips of his slowly cooling drink. None of this sounded good, especially if the two were from a prominent family of some kind. Although, he was curious at how their name became so, if they even were. "If that's the case, we'd better get you home as soon as possible." 

"Well, with time travel, I'm not sure there's too big a rush. That's another thing that doesn't make a lot of sense. Why bother when I can just return to the basic time I left? It's kind of pointless?" She admitted, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, staring at the drink in her cup. About that moment, their food was ushered to the table and served before them, gingerly. Also, around which time, another man entered the building. 

"I don't believe it..." Mannix muttered, not sure how to react. On the one hand, it was nice to see an old friend, except for the fact that last they met, it ended off on bad terms. For that matter, he'd heard from Peggy that the 'old friend' had given his employers an hour a day dedicated to hating him. Reasonable, really, but still upsetting to hear.


	4. Chapter 3

"Lew...." He greeted, reluctantly. "How did you even find me here?"

"I was headed to your office, and noticed your car." The newcomer that Mannix had referred to as Lew didn't seem happy to bring the first bit up, but eventually did. Manix knew already where this was going.

"I'm not going back to Intertect."

"Damn it, Mannix! Why the hell not?!" The man's volume raised, hands slamming down on the table, despite trying to keep a lid on his temper. This was a public place. He hadn't intended to make a scene there, but the detective's lack of tact really grinded his nerves, even after all their years of knowing each other. 

"Temper, Lew. There are ladies present." Mannix quipped, tsking in disapproval. A bit of coffee sloshed out at the action of violent motion, which he took a napkin and wiped up. If a glare could actually have edge, it was probable he and Dragea would suffer similarly. Lew straightened out in agitation, tugging his suit down to fix it with injured pride. As he did so, he finally took notice of who he meant. 

He groaned in annoyance. Of course, he'd be entertaining a lady friend. Very likely, she was another damsel-in-distress and his next case, but of course, she'd be pretty. Strange, though. Who walked around with rainbow hair and a crazy outfit? Although, with the trends nowadays, was it any worse than tie dye, peace signs, and the like?

Dragea coughed, uncomfortably, resisting an urge to shift in her seat. So, Mannix was one of those types. Probably not opposed to a little on-the-job flirting. Wonderful. She sighed, shaking her head before smiling up at them. "Well, one lady, anyway. Right now. Although, it's a courtesy not necessary for me. These ears have heard it all and worse."

"No, he's right. It's remiss of me to use such harsh language around a lady, but you'll soon learn it's hard not to with this knucklehead." Wickersham grumbled. His hands balled to fist, but soon relaxed them, exhaling to calm down. "Still, if you're in any kind of trouble, there's no man better to help you, which brings me back to why I'm here."

"I told you, I'm not coming back." Mannix insisted, indignant and firm. Lew was close to shouting again, but contained himself a bit better. 

"I have done everything I could to make working there better for you. Why can't you just compromise with me, so we're both happy? Intertect needs you."

"Neither of us were happy. I did us both a favor. You know I can't work with those machines and company policies. I need to run things my own way, by myself. I've told you all this, many times before." Mannix said. He looked to his company, who seemed to look on with intent and curiosity, even some amusement. Everything about her intrigued him, just a bit, though right now, he wished he didn't have to include her in old drama. "Sorry to have you caught up in the middle of all this."

"Oh, no, please! I get to see another angle to your work ethics, this way." She chuckled. "Besides, it looks like you're good friends with a lot of history together and he needs to vent his frustrations. It's sad to see it end on a note like this. I hope you can work something out."

"Doubtful. Mannix doesn't play well with others." Wickersham mocked mildly, deciding to treat him like a child if he was going to act like one. 

"If I may? I'm sure he realizes and appreciates all the efforts you've made, but if someone's not happy, it's not a good show of friendship to force them to return to a life they aren't satisfied with. Worse, to cut all ties with them, if that's what you're doing. You should give him the space he needs, and the opportunity to show gratitude in a way he's comfortable with. Besides, he may be the best now, but there's always going to be someone better, and they'll probably be a better fit to the 'company policies'." Dragea offered, hoping she could help in some form. 

"Eloquently put. You've got quite a way with words." Mannix smirked, leaning a bit closer. "Sit, Lew. I'm sure I owe you at least a lunch and a coffee."

"At least..." Still, the company head stared a bit at this girl, mulling over what she said. He guessed she made a fair, valid point, but it did hurt to have his close friend leave on short notice and refuse to come back. He supposed he could start the repair process at accepting a coffee, if not his returning a job proposal with acceptance. With some reluctance, he took the seat next to Mannix, wanting to give the girl space and not crowd her in.

"Ah, where are my manners." Mannix started in on introductions. However, Wickersham interrupted with a quip.

"You don't have any, remember?" 

A sharp, unamused stare was sent his way, but otherwise, Mannix continued. "Daria, this is my old boss, Lew Wickersham. Lew, this is Daria. She's..." 

He stopped, suddenly. He wasn't really sure how to continue that statement, without mentioning something Lew wouldn't take well. Heck, he wasn't even handling it well. Fortunately, Dragea stepped in again, with her quick thinking. 

"I'm visiting, from far away. It's not that big, you probably wouldn't recognize the name, and I'm not really up to talking about it, right now." 

"Understood. I hope you enjoy your stay, for however long a time you do."

"I haven't quite decided that, I have to admit."

"Is there any particularly reason you came here?" 

Dragea, stopped, momentarily, a bit at a loss for words. She glanced to Mannix a second, though help didn't seem forthcoming and he didn't seem likely to try. No, he wasn't a hide-the-truth kind of guy. That was a good thing, though. She kind of liked that about him. Looking back to Lew, though, she decided on some semblance of the truth. "Well, it wasn't exactly my choice, at all. I was forcibly taken here and dropped off. It's a long story, and I've already given Mr. Mannix the details."

"Call me Joe. It's easier."

"Shouldn't I stick with formals, if I'm going to be a client?" 

"What's fun with formalities?"

Lew rolled his eyes at his friend casually flirting. More so, though, he was curious about the details she'd claimed to have given. Had Mannix really intended to keep him out? It wasn't like he was working for him, anymore. He had every right to. 

"Well, I'll still stick with them, at least for a while." Dragea told him, not feeling right about already being on first name basis. Granted, it wasn't nearly as big of a deal in her present, at least on Earth, yet she knew how big a deal it was back in this present. She glanced back to the ex-boss, as he stood up. 

"I should call in to let everyone know I've taken lunch. If your waiter returns, would you order for me?" He admitted, not opposed to trust, despite the rougher waters of late. He didn't want to pull anything like the other male present. Mannix rarely did keep him well-informed on his whereabouts. Made it tough to know when he was in trouble and when he wasn't, and frustrated the daylights out of him. Granted, he was the boss, but that made his calling in all the more important. 

Dragea perked slightly up, waiting until he was no longer in earshot. She hadn't wanted to ask in front of him, should Mannix decide against the idea. "If you think it's for the best, I'll totally understand if you want to share the weirder details. I can see how close you both were, if not are."

"We'd take a bullet for each other, if one of us needed it. He's like a brother to me, and he's had my back all these years. Telling him you're from the future, though? That's a tought pill to swallow."

"And he might ridicule you for believing it?"

"That did cross my mind."

"Well, it's up to you. I definitely wouldn't hold it against you, if you wanted to tell him that much. Tell him anything you want to." Dragea told him. She had made certain to time that she he'd have witness in the waitress as she was bringing the plates to their booth. After she'd set them, Mannix did place his friend's order, more than aware of his food preferences. The waitress nodded in understanding, and had somehow managed to fill a third coffee cup before Lew had gotten back.

"Thanks." Lew uttered, disdainfully, wishing he'd gotten back sooner. Still, he was sure Mannix had sound enough judgement with his request. Besides, it couldn't be helped.

"Welcome back." Dragea smiled up. It was habitually instictive, but still good-mannered. Lew blinked.

"Uh, thanks." 

"Daria has something of an unusual way of speaking, but she has her reasons. You'll get used to it." Mannix admitted. The random gesture amused him a little, not that it was exactly uncommon, but most people just didn't. He supposed he should get over it and the poor guy in on the secret. Peggy would have to be informed, too. She'd really let have it. Lew might actually be easier to sway than even himself, though, but certainly not at first. "I'm not sure how much I buy it, yet, but I've promised an open mind. According to her, our new friend here is a time-traveling alien."

Dragea had made the bad decision of taking a sip of coffee at the wrong time, going into a coughing fit suddenly for a couple minutes. "I didn't know you were going to tell him everything all at once."

"Might as well."

Lew remainded silent, unsure of what to make of this shift of conversation. He was clearly being serious, and it seemed as though they both to some degree, believed what was said. That wasn't the Mannix he knew, the "never believe anything he couldn't explain with facts" skeptic that he was. He might say open mind, but it wasn't much bigger than narrow. Religion wasn't much of his forte, either. "I don't quite know what to say. You believe her at all?"

"She's pretty convincing." 

"That's all you're giving me to go on?"

Dragea felt her cheeks glow brightly red in her deep embarrassment. Way to make her sound certifiably insane while having zero proof on hand to show for it. Although, she did pretty much ask for it, so she definitely had no right to say anything at all. 

"Well, to be fair, I do have proof. It's just kind of in the car, which by the way? I wouldn't have dared do back in 2019. With the value of that stuff, you'd have a broken window, and I'd have a missing bag." She admitted, resting her chin on her palm and eating a lone fry. 

"So, what you're saying is you're 30, or 29, according to all your information." Mannix grinned in amusement that she'd let it slip by accident and flushed even more. She was outright speechless at his memory and quick math. He *was* good. 

It seemed a reasonable age-face match up to him, and the unintentional reaction seemed to further cement all her proof. At least, as far as time travel went. That made his curiosity run a bit wild, but asking questions could wait until she was more settled in. Finally, she quipped.

"Well, considering for the gap between my birth year and now, technically I'm negative 21." She joked, resisting her own smirk. He seemed to find it amusing enough, so Dragea found a success.

"You look pretty good for not even being more than a thought." 

"You both belong in a sanitarium." Lew finally spoke up, sighing. Yet, again, while he'd always known Mannix to be insane to a point, he never really actually was. What possible proof could exist that he was going along with this? "What do you mean, proof?"

"Just what she said. Proof."

"Helpful."

Dragea chuckled, finding their brotherly banter rather endearing. "He means my identification card, random technological advances and a book I've read about a dozen times. I probably have some of it memorized, if not that I can name pretty much every character in it. It's dated 2003."

The conversation paused briefly as the waitress once more approached, this time with Lew's meal. Barely reacting to the choice, he began to eat, showing Mannix had chosen well and once more revealing the trust the two had with the other. Dragea smiled, finding that equally endearing. She deeply hoped they could mend their relationship fully. The waitress had gone again, as they resumed their own eating. Dragea felt nervous at suddenly hearing no chatter from the kitchen. Why had they left like that? Was it to talk where she couldn't hear them? She frowned, easily picked up on by Mannix. 

"Is something wrong?" 

"Oh. Not really. I was just thinking about some things. Not really that important, honest."

"If you're sure."

"Positive."

"If it's alright, I think I'd like to see these things you've mentioned. They seem remarkable, to say the least." Lew requested, as the three of them ate peacefully. Mannix glanced briefly at Dragea, before chivelrous instinct kicked in. He stood. 

"I'll get it, you stay here. Unless you have a problem with that?" He questioned, only hesitating because it was still her property. He didn't want her uncomfortable, but he also didn't like the idea of not resting.

"None, whatsoever. Thanks!" 

He wasted no moment in exiting the building, but as he had, Dragea frowned. Two men were waiting at his car and she had a feeling they meant harm. Unable to look away from them through the window, she also got up, not reacting to her wound's telling her to listen to Mannix's unspoken advice to rest. "I'll be right back." 

Her voice trailed to a decrescendo, leaving a effect of distance and distraction. It didn't take much to guess from her hurried pace to follow him, that Mannix probably was getting into some kind of fight. It sure wouldn't have surprised him. Instinctively, he reached for his wallet, left an abundant amount for the waitress and rushed out behind. Should they not make it back before her, the last thing Lew wanted was for her to think they'd pulled a dine-and-dash. 


	5. Chapter 4

"Are you Mannix?" One mysterious figure questioned, with a threatening tone that scared no one present. At most, concern arose within one person, who for the moment remained unnoticed by the confronted party. 

"Maybe. Depends on who's asking?" Mannix quipped, far from unused to the treatment. This meant he was on the right track, if word had gotten around to someone that opposed his finding Miss Emily Grifford. Now, the question was: Who was opposing and why?

"We were just told to inform you, 'Emily doesn't want to be found, so stop looking'." The other told, stepping in his face. Big mistake.

"I'm not very good at taking orders." Mannix retorted, not backing down in the slightest.

"Is that right? Well, maybe we should give you a lesson on how to?" 

"You know, I just might appreciated that." 

Mannix had barely gotten that final phrase out, sending a punch to the gut and doubling his 'instructor' over, gasping for air. He wouldn't stay down long, and he'd had another to worry about, so he swiftly pushed the one down to the sidewalk, and blocked the punch of the secondary ruffian. Back turned, the first challenger was already getting to his feet again.

Dragea could tell that one was going for a knife, seeing the intent in his mind to take advantage of his lack of attention. Just the action of reaching into his coat pocket got her intervening. As soon as the blade was whipped out, Dragea was already grabbing his wrist and kneeing him in the stomach. Using her own seconds of catching him off-guard, bit down hard on his hand to compel the release of the weaponry. With it in her possession, she dashed to the diner, opened the door, and slid it acrosss the ground where it couldn't harm anyone. By the time she turned back around, Lew had taken up the fight with the other unknown threat. 

She guarded the door, to prevent retrieval of the knife, but fortunately, it wasn't necessary. The two had merely gotten away from there, booking it, without even attempting to retrieve it. With it slightly calmer, she gripped her stomach, her breath heaving and her aching again. She gave a chuckle as she shook her head, thinking of what grief Si would be giving her right then, were she there. Of course, so would her newfound companions once the were both fully aware of what she'd done, most likely.

In fact, as if by cue, Mannix gave her a harsh, unamused stare. "I thought the point of me coming out here was so you'd stay put and rest. Even assuming you were stitched up, you probably just pulled them all out."

Dragea couldn't look up, staring instead at the ground. Of course he would've seen. No one would just drop their guard entirely while there was multiple threats around. "I just saw trouble and was concerned."

"She might have saved your life, though. You know one of them had a knife. Was the biting really necessary?" Lew questioned, before his eyebrows furrowed. "Stitches?"

"It was instinctive. I just wanted him to drop it and that was the first thing I thought off." She uttered, growing bright red again. She cursed herself for being so easy to fluster, but sighed. Lew pinched the bridge of nose, not even sure he wanted to know any of this, anymore. Dragea eyes closed, head back and tilted skyward, feeling plain tired and aching. She winced, as Mannix tenderly a hand towards her lower rib area, then frowned at him.

"If you won't let a doctor see, will you at least let me look at it? It should be checked so you don't bleed too much, but I still recommend getting you to a hospital..." He frowned back, about as stubborn as she seemed to be about.

"I'm supposed to tell them I'm a dragon from another planet that hasn't been born, yet? Thanks, I'm good on tha-" She started, then closed one eye, realizing what she said just now. "Oh, right. That... Hasn't been mentioned, yet..." 

Dragea was sure as soon as she'd said it, despite it being the truth, she'd lost them. Mannix barely stared at her for a moment, then exhaled and threw his arms up in exasperation. He gloomily uttered, "That's it. I'm off this ride."

Dragea frowned, catching him by the arm before he could walk away. "Wait a minute, and look in my eyes. I don't make statements I can't prove. It's risky to do so, here, but I don't really see what choice I have." 

She took a briefly second to close her eyes and sigh. While she could tell he would normally have pulled away in agitation, he didn't. Maybe her words still kept him hooked? Who even knew? Yet, when moments later, she opened them and locked eyes, he stumbled back in absolute shock at what he was looking at. "What the-?" 

He couldn't even finish the thought process, let alone his own spoken sentence. They were clearly changed, and certainly not human. They did look reptilian in nature, slitted pupil and almost no iris, what iris existed wasn't even white. Having seen his reaction with his own eyes, Lew was confused and couldn't resist stepping forward to see for himself. His eyes widened when he was met with the sight, too. 

"That's impossible... All of this is impossible." He shook his head. Yet, it was all presented right before him. Were they hallucinating? It wouldn't be the first time, but this was different. His head wasn't fuzzy, and what he was seeing was clear as day. What if this girl was dangerous?

"I'm sure you're both worried I could hurt someone, but I'm relatively harmless, unless I feel I have cause to try. Even then, as you saw with my biting just now, it was a short action and only as bad as I felt necessary in the moment. I wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone, otherwise." She told them, shaking her head at having to even explain any of this at all. 

Mannix sighed, returning his attention back to her wound. He hated pressing the issue, but color him a gentlemen, he didn't want to see anything happen to her under his watch. So, he repeated himself. "May I?"

She rolled her eyes, but finally nodded. She was directed back to her chair inside the diner. Lew disposed of the thug's knife, meanwhile, as Dragea was looked after. She sighed. "You know, you probably don't need to fuss so much." 

"Maybe not, but I'll feel better after I check it." Mannix retorted, not looking away from the source of his gaze. It was strange, it not only seemed foreign but five different punctures all similarly angled, almost like he'd used his nails? ...Claw punctures? "Maybe I've lost my mind." 

"I would've argued you already did, a long time ago, and so did I for putting up with you as an employer for so long. Somehow, I can't argue with this anymore." Lew commented. "I'll go take care of the bill." 

Although, this statement now begged the question, where had the waitress even gone. She'd disappeared to the kitchen a good 10 to 15 minutes ago and that wasn't very good work ethic. Maybe even 20 minutes, but it was difficult to tell, since it wasn't a long scuffle, at all. Once they'd no longer had a knife in possession, they'd decided to cut thier losses and turned chicken, instead, so he was opting for around 15. Maybe she was on her break and they were understaffed? That seemed likely enough. 

"She's not here. Actually, no one's here. I heard her and the cook leave the building after she served your food. I doubt they'll be much longer, though." Dragea admitted. 

"What?!"

"Dragon's have good hearing and eyesight. Also, on that note, I'm sure you understand why I was reluctant to tell you this much, and go to a hospital, now? This isn't really something I can take to one. They have to report stuff like this to authorities, and as it just explaining it to you two can get me in pretty hot water. It'd be worse if I cause a mass panic." Dragea explained. 

"I'm supposed to make my own reports, too, you know."

"I know. I hope I haven't made things too difficult for you."

"I'll figure something out."

"Thank you."

"Well, Lew, I'm sure you need to be getting back. I'll take care of all this, and you stop by to pick up your leftovers after you get out." Mannix suggested. Lew nodded in appreciation. All in all, he was kind of glad he came, even if nothing had really gone as he'd hoped. He'd taken his leave, money back in his wallet, and that just left Mannix keeping an eye on his new dragon friend, waiting to pay their tab. It didn't take long after Lew left, for the cook and waitress to return. She rushed over in a fluster.

"I'm so sorry about the wait! Is there anything I can do or get for you?" She stammered, almost ready to spit out excuse after excuse, but didn't dare when she knew this girl was Kleandra's daughter and likely had her same talents. "Your friend left, already?"

"I'm afraid he had to get back to his work, and I might recommend against leaving this place unattended in the future. That's how places get robbed." Mannix offered for advice, unamused, but not speaking too harshly. Surely she had thought of all the risks.

"I know, sir. I'm really sorry." She vigorously apologized, even giving a slight bow out of instinct. "It won't happen again."

Dragea frowned, having caught the bow. Also, she could see the woman's desire to speak to her, but hesitant to do so in front of humans. As near as you could tell, Mannix had also caught on, and seemed about ready to excuse himself, but Dragea spoke first. "It's easy to tell you have something on your mind, so feel free. He knows pretty much everything, anyway."

She exchanged a somewhat sheepish glance towards the man whom was obviously quite confused. "Wait, so she's one, too? What exactly don't I know, yet??"

"Admittedly, I'm still trying to ease you into it, little by little. Figured you might prefer that, but existance of dragons kind of opens up a whole lot of questions, doesn't it? So, there's still quite a lot." She asked, eyebrow quirked. He couldn't argue with that, but that didn't mean he liked it. Shaking her head, she returned her attention back the the girl. "I know I can get in trouble for this, but honestly, I didn't have a lot of choice. I have the feeling any choice I could have made might have led to the same results, anyway."

The waitress didn't know what to say. She did trust her mother's instincts, so there wasn't a reason she shouldn't trust hers. After a slight bit more hesitation, she finally broke the brief silence. "I sent a line, sort of, to a dragon I've known a long time. He's a healer, and I'm positive he was very willing to help. His specialty is internal viruses and things like that, but I'm afraid he's the only one I know, personally. Also, I've taken full care of your bill as a debt to Kleandra. It's the least I could do."

Dragea bit her lip, knowing that might happen. She sighed. "Well, I've suffered non-specs, before. I can handle it, but I'm not sure I feel comfortable with any of this. I can't say much for paying, since I wasn't even the one paying anyway, but I have to ask.... Are you sure? I mean, I can't imagine you take home very much to begin with." 

"Really, I insist! It's not every day I get to-" The girl started, stopping only when Dragea got hastily up, stuffing a random food object nearby in her face to get her stop talking. The very action made her grimace from moving way too fast. She also sent a look of apology at her. 

"Sorry. Habit. My best friend tends to blurt out things I'd rather not have mentioned, and this is the best intervention tactic I have for her. If that's alright with you, I'd rather that stay unspoken." Dragea explained, scratching her head. Surely, it would be among his first questions, but she'd burn that bridge when she reached it.

The girl blinked a moment, then laughed. "You're as peculiar as your mother! I understand. It must be tough to have such big shoes to fill. Well, the fact of the matter is I won't be covering the check alone. Drakauldis is helping me. That's the cook. Now, just let me take care of everything for you, and I'll give you my friend's number. All you have to do is call him, and I know he'll be happy to help!"

"What kind of name is Drakauldis? Would someone tell me what I'm missing, here? What? Is the cook a dragon, too?" The poor detective felt like his mind was about to explode, and he was tired. The fight alone might have made him fatigued, but this all made it worse. 

"Drakauldis is a draconic name, so yes, he's a dragon, too. Congratulations, you're lucky enough to have found probably the only place in town that has people that could recognize what I am. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised if the owner of the place is a dragon, too." 

"He isn't." The waitress curtly said, place the remainder of food in bags and left them nicely on the table, before hurrying to the register to pay out of her pocket. Dragea still felt bad about it, but neither of them made a move to stop her, though Mannix seemed equally reluctant. Her resolve was just too difficult to ignore. Dragea shook her head.

"So, your name isn't Daria, then?"

"Well, I've spent more of my life thinking my name was Daria than the name I was born with, and it's probably easier for you, all around. If you must know, though, not really. It's not. My mom gave me the name Dragea, and that's the name all dragons know me by. I'm perfectly fine with Daria, though."

Dragea really did feel bad for this man. He was trying to take it all in stride and he was doing admirably, but anyone would be ready to lose their minds at trying. She put a hand at his shoulder, adding, with a voice of concern, "If you need me to stop talking about all of this for a while, I definitely get it."

"Unfortunately, time is a luxury I really don't have. There's still a girl missing out there, I'm supposed to find. Personally, you picked a bad time to drop in the neighborhood." He admitted, throwing his hands up. Now, he had two mysteries to unravel, at one time. 

"That's what those two guys were talking to you about. It's why you wanted to talk to that little, old lady's grandson?"

"Ye- How did you know it was her grandson?"

Dragea bit her lip. Her instincts blurted out more than they should have, again, but she felt bad rushing so much of this already. "I think the lady was responsible for those two. I could see her leering at you from her window, and before we left, I could hear her talking to someone. A male voice, and your name was mentioned, but the walls and distance muffled what they said. I can't tell if she was talking to her grandson, or one of the brutes from outside. For all I know, it could have been some other unknown factor."

Mannix seemed to take a minute, to mull that over in the midst of the rest of the day's new information. "What makes you so sure she had anything to do with the altercation outside?"

"It's too coincidental. Given the time it would have taken to search for you in this city and locate you for threats, that sources them pretty snugly to the time frame of that conversation. It's all hunch and speculation, though." Dragea shrugged. 

"Maybe, but I'd sure like to find out if it's coincidence or fact."

It was a reasonable hunch to make, and it would've been a lie to say the thought didn't occur to him, too. Still, though, it didn't mean she had anything to do with the threatening he'd just dealt with. This only meant he'd have to try again, to talk with her grandson. Maybe after Peggy dug some things up. They'd have to get back soon. 


	6. Chapter 5

"What's a non-spec?" The car ride was silent for the most part, so perhaps that's what mildly startled the rainbow-haired dragon currently sitting in the passenger seat. Meanwhile, she was stirred from taking in everything around here. She wasn't distracted with trying to give details into her situation, so now all she cared to do was look around until Mannix finally gave his questions. Apparently, he'd now decided to. 

"Non-specialty. Healers back where I'm from are... Unique. Everything back home is pretty indescribable, really, but... I imagine you've noticed the wound isn't behaving like a normal wound. It's because when Cal patched me up, for whatever reason, he treated it with an apothecarian... I guess ointment, that speeds up healing and keeps me from bleeding too much. See, most of the time, dragons need to have a particular talent for healing to be able to, but there some remedies and herbs, or the like, that as long as you know what you're doing can still be used by anyone. Even you could apply this particular ointment and it'd work, and Cal has learned in the past from someone he was once very close to. Healers? They can do way more than speed it up by a mere few days, and most have a particular specialty. My best friend specializes burns and stab wounds." Dragea explained. She tossed her head a bit, to the side and then the other, then back. Finally, she added, "For obvious reasoning. Cal kind of decided her specialties for her."

"So, like regular Doctors are here. They have specialties, too, after all. Heart surgery, psychiatry, pediatrics, and all that." Mannix offered. Dragea chuckled. 

"Something like that, yes. Pretty much all healers are capable of healing all medical conditions, without learning new specialties, though, and it all heals the same. It's the comfort level of the patient that varies. The worst pain I've ever felt might just be either from a non-spec working outside of their professional talent, or a predjudiced spec that didn't like me and broke their personal moral code. Hard to tell which was worse." Dragea mused thoughtfully, wondering with actual sincerity. Well, none of that mattered now, and personally, she wouldn't hold a grudge. It would have been narcissistic to think everyone would like her, or at least act they did. "Is this your office?"

They had been stopped for a bit, so it was likely and sensible to assume so. Dragea wanted to ask, anyway. Once more, Mannix had exited the vehicle to go around to help her, so answering wasn't the greatest of necessities. 

As per usual whenever she was helped for balance, though usually by Cawelfe, she customarily blushed. It wasn't long-lived. More or less, she'd grown used to, but yet, she still initially couldn't help herself. She hobbled along, with help, up until she pulled away to walk to an outdoor fountain. Admiring it, she couldn't resist letting her palm obstruct the running water. "This is incredibly nice. Was it always here or did you put it in?"

"It was already on the property. Why?"

"Pure curiousity. I take interest in water-related things. It's one of my elements."

"'One of your Elements'? I'm confused."

"Oh! Dragons have elements attached to them that define who they are, or what they can do. Usually, it's just one or two." 

"If water is 'one of yours,' then I'd have to guess that you have two, then."

"Actually, I'm a rare exception with even more than two. My mother only had darkness on her side, but I took after my father more and he had nearly everything imagineable for elements."

They began to walk again towards the building Mannix worked out of and lived in. It wasn't much, looking at it from the outside, but the inside was comfortable and it was home. He couldn't complain. Helping her to a seat, he glimpsed an expression of curiosity from Peggy, sitting at her desk. He had wanted to ask Dragea how elements defined dragons, and how water influenced her, but he hadn't wanted to cause a panic with Peggy. He told Lew, so he had little hesitation on telling her, too, but he was more than aware Peggy would probably kid him mercilessly about believing any of this. First, though, came introductions.

"Daria, I'd like you to meet the best secretary this side of the globe, Peggy." He introduced, with a grin on his face. It grew just a smidge as she smirked back.

"Oh, you sweet talker, you're just trying to butter me up. What is it this time?"

"I'm afraid Daria is an unusual case."

"You don't really get more unusual than me... It's nice to meet you, Peggy!" Dragea agreed, offering a hand out for a shake. Peggy seemed totally taken aback by the gesture, but eventually took and shook it. "What is it?"

"I don't think anyone's ever been so willing to shake my hand before, except..." She started, but felt too abashed to complete the thought. Dragea was soon struck with epipheny. 

"Oh, right, this was before.... Well, if you can believe this, you'll find the world will eventually treat you better. It won't be tomorrow, definitely way longer than it should take, but the days will come."

"Might want to listen to her. Apparently, Daria's seen the future." He said, sounding like his usual skeptic self, despite knowing better. Dragea could only guess he was messing with her a little, while also dragging out when he'd have to tell Peggy the whole explanation. 

"What?! You're some kind of psychic?" She questioned, eyebrow raised. Granted, it was a nice prediction, but she didn't really believe that sort of thing, either. "I mean, wouldn't that be something, though. I sure wouldn't mind being taken seriously by people outside of present company."

Dragea opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again with a frown. She couldn't deny being psychic, but she hadn't gotten to that, yet. "Well, it's not so much being psychic, as... Well, I've 'seen the future' because it's where I belong." She admitted. "It's a long and complicated story, but I've already proved that and more."

"I'm not sure I follow you."

"No one has, so far." 

"I like to think I'm doing a pretty good job, so far." Mannix stepped in, pride mildly bruised. Dragea chuckled. 

"You're doing a better job than I would have thought possible for anyone. Not many people can easily accept dragons and other planets." Dragea admitted. 

"I'm not sure you've proven that last part."

"Well, I'd hoped the former would be enough to prove the latter. I'd take you there, but unless you want to forfeit your humanity, that'd be a bit difficult. Particularly, since becoming a dragon is the better of the two deals, and you'd only have to stay a couple months compared to the rest of your life."

"I certainly wouldn't want that. You're saying a person can just become a dragon, if they want to? Just like that?"

Dragea would have answered him, happily, but this was a point where the secretary hit her breaking point. She held up her hands to halt her friend and employer, and his current charity case. "Whoa, wait a second. Back up and slow down, please! What are you two going on about?"

"Look, I'm not going to hide anything from you. You two are close, from what I can tell, so I'd like everything he knows to be everything you do. As I've told him, this is going to be a lot to take in. I'll try to be gradual with you both, but I'm a dragon. Scaley critter, real as anything, even if logic has told you otherwise. I kind of scared him when I showed him, but if you can promise you won't panic or anything...." She started, unable to look at Peggy as she trailed off. She felt bad for assuming she'd scream or something, but it was a natural reaction. She just wanted to be safe about this.

Peggy seemed irritated by the accusation she might, but to be honest, she couldn't even fathom the scenerio being presented to her. Had they lost their minds? Mannix really believed this? "Are you for real? Did you, I don't know... Hit your head or something?"

Dragea gave a look to Mannix almost pleading for him to step in, if he thought she might panic, after all. When he gave a slight nod, she could only assume he'd caught her cue. Taking a deep breath, her form disappeared, leaving that of a prismatic dragoness, stretching its wings. She still had her injuries, considering shape shifting couldn't alter the facts that she had still been stabbed, even if the laws of nature were magically bent slightly to allow for clothes after shifting to blend in.

Peggy's eyes widened, stumbling backwards. Mannix had moved fast, acting accordingly to the silent promise made, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tight for comfort. He pulled his friend to him, using his body to muffle any sobs of fear or yells of hysteria. Any signs she was panicking at all were muted, thanks to his efforts, but soon, she fell limp. 


	7. Chapter 6

"Peggy?" He questioned, now worried for her, but smiled sadly when he realized what had happened. Daria, still a dragon, hopped onto the desk. As best as he could gather, she seemed as worried, and that made him smile more. He brought her to the couch, not far away, that often he'd be forced to lie on after beatings that didn't go well for him. 

"She's alright. She's just fainted. I'll talk to her once she comes out of it." Mannix reassured his new client. Previously drooped wings fluffed out, upon feeling better, and Mannix couldn't help tentatively reaching out towards the creature he wouldn't have thought could exist. He caught himself, though, remembering she was technically a person, too. Sort of. Pulling slightly back, he forced himself to ask, "May I?"

As if to respond with confirmation that he was allowed, Daria pressed her cool, scaly, smooth head into his warm palm. It reminded him of the way a cat might invite a person to encourage them to continue petting it. Mannix obliged, feeling quite amazed. He was actual stroking a dragon, a powerful beast of pure fiction.

It was just incredible to say the least, and if he could deny the proof she'd given with her eyes, he no longer could, now. This was far too real to the touch and to the eye, to be some kind of hallucination. It was unlike anything he could imagine. The wings felt almost like leather, but more coarse. He took a deep breath. "Guess it's hard not to believe everything you're saying at this point."

Dragea hopped back down off the desk, shaking herself out as a sharp jolt shot through her upon landing, once again. Once settled, she let her form shift back. 

"If it helps, dragons did once co-exist in natural form with humans for ages, at one point, during the middle ages. I'm told they got tired of being killed for glory, and fled the planet to live peaceful lives." She explained, "To answer your question, though, yeah. It's frowned upon, but my best friend and her cousin are proof of that. While I grew up thinking I was human, but wasn't, they actually were. Then, one day, Cal... Cafra, as I've always known him, kidnapped her and brought her to Azakra. That's what our home is called. Ever since, she's been as much a mix of dragon and human as I've always felt. Her cousin wasn't as lucky."

"I'm guessing she got the unlucky bargain. What did she become? Why is it worse?"

Mannix wasn't sure why he felt so enveloped in the mystery. He would have thought himself ready for an asylum, had he been able to time travel and tell himself about what he'd discovered. Yet, the mystery was mesmerizing and he almost couldn't break himself free. 

"Well, the magic barrier... Yes, there's magic for us. Whether humans believe it or not, dragons are beasts capable of magics and power near unimagineable to most people, but I digress. The magic barrier is meant to protect those that somehow happen across our world by transformation unaware humans. It happens, but not frequently enough for dragons to suspect humans in their midst, but after the hunts for glory, some dragons are kind of hostile. It's just safest that way, you know?"

"Understandable, I suppose. I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't be hostile, if they were hunted down without justifiable cause. You haven't answered the question, though." He said, looking through his pockets. It had been quite some hours since his last cigarette.

"She turned into a fairy. I know, you're probably hitting your limit, sorry, but yeah, fairies are real, too. Maybe that's why dragons have magic, I don't know, but both exist. See, the problem there, is dragons can shapeshift so they appear human. Fairies can't. My best friend only had to learn how to be a dragon, control her power and learn how to keep her secret under wraps. Her cousin never got that option, so now she's pretty much stuck there." 

Dragea felt awful about it, and from the fact Mannix had stopped looking for his lighter to light the cigarette now in his mouth, she supposed he felt bad for Si's cousin as well. Still, there wasn't anything that anyone could do. Mitsuke just had to learn to live with the change. 

"Oh! Here! Let me get that for you!" Dragea offered, finally, of instinct to help. She flicked back her wrists lightly, then cupped her hands around a suddenly appearing flame. Holding it up for him in order to ignite the thin, white stick, she noticed the surprise in his eyes. Pulling the cigarette out, with two fingers, he waved it about, gently.

"Neat trick."

"It has its uses, I guess. I'm not as good as Cafra at controlling fire, though, so it takes a lot of effort to create even this small flame." 

"This is an element you both share, then."

"Yeah. Pretty much, the only one, actually. He didn't inherit the rarity of multiple elements. He only has fire and shadows on his side."

"Shadows?" 

He wanted to ask how shadows could be an element listed alongside fire, a thing that could by itself be created. For the life of him, he didn't know how. He was at a complete loss for words on how to phrase it. Fortunately, he didn't seem to have to.

"Shadows, as an element, it's not so much something you create, like fire. You more influence the lighting around you. It's kind of like wrapping a veil around you like a blanket. Control your breathing and it's akin to being completely invisible if you want to be. Cafra is good at that. It's how he can stalk so easily. I never even know he's there until it's too late." She admitted, sighing. 

"I'm sorry. That must be hard on you."

"What can I say, he's a perfect soldier. Little emotional payoff, a strategist of the highest order, and deadly if he feels he has reason. Like I said, he's not someone you want on your bad side. I'm just lucky in a way, I guess. He prefers to stick to paranoia tactics and slow torture."

Having said this, she was embarrassed to look at him. She was sure he was judging him, harshly. Most people did. She just wasn't among them. She decided to add, "I don't hate him. He has his reasons, and I'll take my life now over being dead. Really, I will. I just... It's hard, knowing how much he hates me."

"If he really hated you, and from what you've told me, I imagine he'd feel justified in just killing you, by now. You're standing here, right in front of me, so he must not hate you too much." 

"I hope to the heavens you're right, because he's still my brother and I care about him so much."

"That right there is why I'm sure he'll come around. Maybe he's already starting to. You said he does everything for a reason. So, why here? Why now?"

Daria couldn't speak for a minute, too lost in thoughts and confusion to be able to. Why? Is it because he thought she'd enjoy it, there? He would know she'd treat the situation like any vacation the king would send her on, because she rarely left Azakra as it was. After all, there was only consequence for staying, if she tried to alter things, which she would never do. She'd be incredibly careful about it, as if stepping on eggshells the entire visit. "Honestly, the only thing I can think of is he'd figure I'd be interested in being this far back in time. I'd be intrigued about how people lived. Otherwise, it wouldn't matter when he left me."

"I think you're right. That and fixing your wound so you don't bleed to death completely contradicts the desire to see you dead."

"I don't understand any of this." 

"Don't try to, very hard. 'Try to reason about love and you will lose your reason'." Mannix smiled at her, reaching out her face. "Your story is incredible, but you're sane. I'd hate for that to change." 

Dragea's eyes widened just slightly, in startled surprise at the gentle touch to her face. She imagined it wasn't meant as too big of a gesture, but it was still nice, regardless. It wasn't even any stranger a feeling than a moment ago as a dragon. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Dragea mirrored the smile back, though briefly. "I feel bad, I'm distracting you from your other case."

"I'll find her, distractions or not. As far as I can tell, she's not in any danger, but you can't be too careful when a person is missing. Mind you, you were pretty bad off, yourself, and I couldn't just ignore that."

"Wow. Your need to help others is as strong as mine. My friends are constantly teasing me that no one could match me, there. They were wrong, I guess." Dragea chuckled, but shook her head. "You're wrong, too. It's tough to explain, but this girl you're looking for. I can't shake the feeling that every second matters."

"I don't get it. How could you know something like that?"

"Okay, this one will be easier to prove than to outright explain. Just think of something. Anything, as detailed and unpredictable as you can make it." She had dealt with proving her talents to normal people too frequently. Sometimes, it was just simpler this way. Mannix, though confused, had decided to just go along with it. It would be less headache-inducing. What could he think up so spontaneously? 

Once he had it in his mind, he waited. Suddenly, Dragea let out an unsuspecting snort. "Well, I don't know if a case paperwork file memorizing is such a good idea with confidentiality laws or whatever you may have to worry about, but that's my fault for not specifying. 'Case number: 52156721. Name: Elsbury, Thomas J.' You know what, I'll stop there. I think I've stated my point well enough. Dragons are capable of a lot of things, and powers of the mind are actually pretty commonplace. My mother was pretty gifted in the ways of extrasensory perception."

"Guess that makes you both women of many talents. That's uncanny. You followed my train of thought exactly!" 

It was pretty obvious by this point, Dragea was going to blast him away constantly with news and skills beyond anything he could comprehend. Although, that left food for thought, now. His newest client was in danger, then he'd better try going back to the house where he and Dragea met. 

"Stay here. If Peggy comes to, let her know she should get home to her son, but just stay here and stay off your feet. You're supposed to be resting." He barked out a few quick orders. Then, hurried back to the door. 

"Wait, Mr. Mannix!" Dragea exclaimed, reaching out and grabbing the sleeve at the elbow as he turned to reach for the knob. 

"Please, I insist you call me Joe. What is it? You said time was of the essence. That means I should be quick."

"Okay, fine. Look, Joe. I know you work alone, I can feel that, but I know I can help you, if you'll let me. I won't get in your way, and I'll take a back seat to let you work your own way, but my talents could save time she may not have otherwise. Please, let me help." 

Dragea knew her eyes were welling up, despite trying her best to keep them from watering. It probably softened him up a bit to the idea. Maybe it was combination of seeing how much she wanted this, as well as the fact she wouldn't be like the detectives he declined working with, if she followed through with her word. He wouldn't have worry about her being too ambitious to further her own career. He could still work with the same freedom he had right then. He would just have some added friendly company and some cushioning for unforeseeable problems. Still, he was reluctant, but not so much about letting her help. 

"You're injured. You're supposed to be resting, I just told you that. Don't you have any concept of recovery? Besides, it's dangerous. You could get even more hurt than you already are."

"There's no danger I don't already deal with, and as far as recovering... Well, to be honest? I... Don't usually stay injured this long." Dragea admitted, once more scratching the back of her neck in embarrassment. "I mean, Si usually insists I rest, but... I feel like she worries too much." 

"Si? Is that your healer friend? Exactly how fast do wounds heal for dragons. Didn't you say that just happened today???" 

As per usual as of late, Mannix couldn't understand what she was saying. How was it even remotely possible for a stab wound to heal in less than a day? Yeah, he'd just seen her conjure up fire out of thin air, but heal a wound in under 24 hours? Not a chance. Right?

"You'll get used to this, I promise. It's not just 'less than a day'... Think an instant. Healers work in an instant. Most of the time. Unless they want to drag it out, and then you're just at their mercy of how long they want to take, but most want it to be that quick. Less suffering, you know."

"Instant healing is impossible. There's just no way I can believe that." 

"Really? It's harder to believe than dragons?" 

"Well, yeah. I saw it, felt your scales and wings. It was too real to ignore."

"Well, I guess you'll have to see this for yourself, too. I hate to do this. She did enough just paying our food, but I also want to be able to back all my claims." 

Dragea pulled a slip of paper given to her by the girl that recognized her, before. Like she said, her reluctance was strong, but regardless, she took the dial phone receiver into her hands. "Unless you're not okay with me making a call? I understand if-" 

She didn't even get the words out before he glanced at the slip and started dialing for her. Either he was worried she wouldn't know how to use it, or he was just exasperated with her overpoliteness. She coughed a couple times, before letting out a meek thanks. 

It had barely dialed, before an anxious hello sounded through phone. Dragea blinked before frowning and thinking about how to word herself. "Hello. This is Kleandra's... Technically unborn... daughter. I was told you'd be expecting my call. I wasn't going to, but the girl that gave me your number was kind of insistent, and I could really use the help, if you'd really be willing to."

"Of course! It'd be my honor! The only thing is Ildrag told me your wound is... What I mean is, I've never done very well with that kind of problem." The caller stammered, seeming abashed for his faults.

"She mentioned. Don't worry about that. You're kind enough to agree to help. I can't complain about that, and I can handle it." 

"O-oh. Well, okay, then. Should I meet you whenever you're staying?"

"It might be better if I go to you, if you're okay with that." 

"Certainly! Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. If I'm right, you're actually on the way."

"I haven't even given you the address."

"You don't have to." 

"...Right. You really are Kleandra's daughter." 

"Well, I'll be there soon. Thank you, again! Bye." 

That said, Dragea hung up the phone, again. "Again, sorry if any of this is a problem, but I'm absolutely sure he's on your way, and I didn't want to impose your house for this. Besides, your couch is being used, right now and it'll be better if I sit during the process. Not to mention, it won't take long, and I'm used to dealing with people I don't or barely know."

"Whatever gets me out of here fastest." Mannix agreed, more uncomfortable for her sake, though less worried than anyone from her time period would be. They were back in the car, shortly after, wasting time only to leave a note for Peggy. 

Dragea gave him the address, and he was doubly impressed that not only did she pull the address from her own mind, and that she could remember it was on the way. Unless... Did her instincts just tell her it was? Nah, probably saw the street sign in passing when they'd driven to the diner. Either way, Dragea didn't seem to think it important enough to comment on his silent musings.

When they found the healer's address, the door was left open and the occupant appeared to be flitting to and fro, getting items together. Having heard the two coming, he shouted through the open door. "Come on in! I was just getting this ready for you! You got here faster than I expected."

He had been shocked to watch them enter with his permission. He was staring incredulously at her. "My word, you look just like her, but have your father's hair and eyes! Wow!" 

His words made her flush, but Dragea felt distracted. She recognized the sights and smells of a variety of different herbs. "Guess the recipe for this particular medicine hasn't changed much over the years." She smiled. When the healer dragon quirked a raised eyebrow in confusion, Dragea offered for explanation, "My best friend is in the business, you could say."

The male dragon nodded slowly in understanding, as he continued mixing his solution. However, he soon leered at Mannix, nervously. 

"We didn't have a lot of time to waste. You can help her?" Mannix spoke, starting to get agitated with how dragons were treating him. Not that he really could say much, if humans really killed their kind for sport. Who wouldn't be weary or upset by that?

She smiled, sadly. She would have to assure this dragon, too. "He's with me. I hope you don't mind if he watches you work. He's aware of our kind and what we can do, but he's having trouble with believing instant healing. He's trustworthy, I promise."

"If you trust him, I see no reason not to. Just stay back a ways, though. I was anxious enough before having an audience." 

"Really, there's nothing to be nervous about. You'll do fine."

"Easy for you to say." The healer dragon mumbled, but sighed, motioning for her to sit. "Has your wound already been treated with a solution? I smell traces of Porygozitine."

"Oh, so I was right on that! The name hasn't changed, either. Huh. I'm surprised, but yeah. Apparently. Will that be a problem?" 

"No, no! I'm just surprised. I thought the main herb ingredient no longer existed."

"I guess they managed to produce it again, or found a replacement that reacted the same. Sorry, I don't have more information."

"That's alright. Maybe I'll look into it more, when I can. In the meantime, it shouldn't counteract with this in any way. My name is Higon, by the way. I don't think I caught yours."

"Oh, right! Dragea! Just Dragea. It's an honor to make your acquaintance!" She introduced, hinting her desire to keep title under wraps. The expression on Higon's face spoke volumes of horror, but they were in the presence of a human, so he was willing to comply. She settled down to get comfortable, while the healer looked at the wound, dipping fingers into the substance he'd mixed and rubbing it over the site. 

Being that he wasn't specialized, it took precious seconds to recall the catalyst chants that he spoke with little confidence. Both combined were the exact reasons Dragea felt pain, and outside of sharp inhalation, a grimace and digging her nails into the upholstery, she reacted almost too calmly about it. Mannix was worried, but more so about how well she managed the pain. It was too experienced a response for his liking. 

Still, his worry was replaced by sheer awe at seeing the wound close itself up as if nothing had ever happened. His intelligent, logical mind couldn't come up with words for exactly how he felt, but it was miraculous to say the least. He almost wanted to examine it closer, and might have if the guy hadn't asked him to keep back. Although, looking closer or not, all he could think about was how useful that could be to his daily life of constantly being punched or shot at. 

Now, if only he was in on the secret everyone else seemed to know immediately off the bat, without even knowing who Dragea was, he'd have only the usual mysteries left. He was planning to ask her about it as soon as he had the opportunity, that was for sure, and until then, he had a pertual look of unamusement.

"I'm sure you know the drill, but I have to remind everyone. You should rest. Try not to stand or walk for long periods of time. The wound is fully healed, but that doesn't mean you won't feel any fatigue or physical effects of having been injured."

"I'm aware of 'the drill,' yes, and I won't pretend I'll follow the advice. I'm told I'm very reckless, plus I've been through this enough to get over the after-effects easily."

"Your parents are the same way. Can't tell either what to do. Just try to be careful and rest if you have to. Okay?"

"That, I'll do."

Dragea got to her feet, immediately, wanting to spare as little time as manageable. "Thank you for your help. I won't forget this. I don't know if my parents will honor anything, but if you ever need anything in say 20 years or so, look me up back home."

"You're too kind! This was my honor!" He spoke, with a bow, hand over his heart. Dragea frowned, quickly coughing to excuse him and alert him to straighten up. He was abashed, but did so. 

"Sorry, I forgot." 

Dragea sighed. That wouldn't be escaping Mannix's notice. He was too good for that, but hopefully, for the moment, he wouldn't place the pieces together too soon. "We should get going. Thank you, again!" 

However, she ducked out of that room so fast, a person might have thought it caught fire or was about to explode. In actuality, she just wanted to keep her new companion preoccupied away from such thoughts or questions. Too bad, the second she was strapped back in to the vehicle, the inquiry was already out in the open. 

"I really don't like secrets being kept from me. I understand you want me to learn slowly, but it's better I learn faster, rather than slow."

"It's not important, and it's probably one of only a couple things I'm not okay with people knowing. I guarantee knowing it won't help you in any way, shape or form, so please, just let me keep this one as long as possible. It's not like you won't figure it out, eventually, but I'd just be happier with no one finding out." 

Mannix spared a quick look in her direction. He wanted to pry it out of her, very badly, but for as secretive with him as she probably should have been, she wasn't. In fact, she was being uncannily open with him, possibly because she knew how much not knowing things got to him. He supposed he could swallow his pride, for a short time. "If I don't in 24 hours, will you just tell me?" 

"I'd be shocked if you don't, so... Maybe."

"I guess that'll have to do."


End file.
